Bed Sheet

My love took a month-long shower.
It lasted all of January.
I heard it from where I lay on the
White and messy bed sheet.

The bed sheet was white and messy
Like the sea in moonlight when
We ate dinner by the coastline.
Dinner lasted all of December.

The sea reached for the legs of our table
And snatched napkins off our laps.
It tried to drag us to the aquatic bedposts
Of mating whales but failed!

That was before her shower in January.
Nowadays our bedroom is peaceful, tranquilized
By the aftertaste of lovemaking and napping.
Dogs bark passionately, have something important to say.

Birds flirt with fruit in the trees
And compliment sunlight.
My love dries in front of the mirror,
Putting on makeup for the rest of February.

She brushes her hair all of March,
While I lay in bed, remembering how
I parachuted to these sheets,
Falling through the sky for a month.

I introduced myself as I landed,
Told her my name and place of death.
She stopped brushing to disentangle
Me from the strings of my parachute,

Using pinkies to unravel me.
Then made love to me,
But only with her bellybutton and ear lobes.
I wasn’t allowed to touch anything else.

The window was open, through it
I heard details about the end of my life.
I didn’t know who was talking,
But they were nearby, in a courtyard.

My love stayed for a while,
Then returned to the bathroom.
She is drawn to the bathroom, drawn to
Its mirrors, shower, perfumes, and tiles.

For years she’s stayed in there,
Brushing her hair and making herself
Pretty so someone will buy her spine.
Each of her vertebrae is worth thousands of diamonds.

I never have to leave this bed again.
I will stay here for decades, listening to birds,
Translating their whistles. I’ll transcribe what they
Say until I have a thousand pages of dialogue:

Did you hear a man parachuted onto a bed?
He looked handsome as he fell through the sky.
I wanted to perch on his foot as he fell.
He had six heartbeats when he made love.

The features on her face moved like clouds
As they made love.
He won’t leave the bed until May.
But the sea is hunting them.

The sea wants to steal their peacefulness.
It stole some of her hair when she dreamed about it.
The sea might ride on wind and
Pull them from the open window!